It's All Fun and Games
by the0s
Summary: Jason Hunters, the son of one of a legendary special agent, finds himself a participant of the CS:GO Games of Valve Corporation, fighting for his life with and against people he had never seen before... And wonders for the first time in his life: Is it worth fighting for what he believed?


_**Chapter 1**_

"Get out of this house."

"But… Mother…"

"You're not my son anymore. I don't want anything to do with you. I said GET OUT!"

It was a rainy day in Tel Aviv, Israel, and a pair of worn boots trudged along a shady-looking street. A tear slid down his cheek, leaving a streak on the grime and dried blood. Jason Hunters reached into his too-big leather jacket's pocket and took out a small piece of paper, and scrutinized it. "Who is this I need to find? Colonel... hmm..." His eyes weren't very good, as his father, who was a US soldier who was deployed in the Middle East, accidentally left his gear in the open, and Jason had accidentally pulled the pin of an M84 flashbang grenade. He went near blind, and despite multiple treatments and an expensive surgery, he wasn't able to completely recover his vision. He turned a corner and walked into a bigger street, cars driving past him. Suddenly, a sharp stone hit him square in the right shoulder. Waves of pain rushed over Jason, and he fell over, clutching at his shoulder with his left arm. As he hit the asphalt, the world seemed to go red and he felt something warm and wet on his left hand. Clearing his head, he turned over and stood up, stumbling. He scanned the nearby area for his attacker, and spotted a figure running into a side street. He thought of giving chase, but as he broke into a sprint, a blast of pain shot up his right arm, and he almost fell over again. Warily, Jason Hunters picked up the piece of paper on the sidewalk and looked at it closely, and dragged his weary body to a big building on the outskirts of town.

Colonel Hunters downed pills with a cup of water. He had a nasty headache, and the doctor recommended that he get some rest, but how could he? A terrorist group called the Elite Crew had raided a remote town, and killed over 60 people before his men stopped the attack and drove the terrorists away. They had burnt 4 civilian homes and a small church. This was nothing compared to the attack they launched on another town 3 months ago (which they had completely demolished), but that didn't make it any better. He heard a commotion outside his office, and the flick of a knife being drawn. He grabbed his P250 from its holster and rushed out to find two soldiers restraining a teenager. One of the soldiers had a small cut on his cheek, and a small blade was on the floor a few steps away from the kid. The teenager kept screaming that his mother knew someone and that he had a letter. The soldiers let him go, but one took out a P2000 and pointed it at the kid. Colonel Hunters ordered, "search him", and one of the soldiers put his pistol back into its holster and searched the kid. On a closer look, the kid didn't look full Middle Eastern, but looked mostly white. In fact, looking past the grime and blood, his face looked familiar… "Jason?"

The soldiers looked at Colonel Hunters in confusion, while the kid scowled at him. "How do you know my name?" The soldier who was searching him found a folded piece of paper. "Sir, it's addressed to you… It seems that this kid does have at least a little bit of truth in him, in knowing you I mean, although I'd guess that he's just a pickpocket who got your name." "Give it to me!" "Of course, sir."

Colonel Hunters quickly looked over the paper, and at the bottom, he found the name Aliza Hunters. Aliza? Then it hit him: his brother, Mark Hunters, had married an Israeli woman while he was deployed in Tel Aviv. He had been killed in combat by terrorists soon after their marriage, and Matt had lost contact with the woman. He remembered that Mark used to show him pictures of his young son, bragging about how smart and athletic the little child was.

"Give me the damn piece of paper!" The teenager shouted. "Shut up, you little street rat!" The soldier restraining him shouted back at him, twisting the kid's arm to make him kneel in pain. "What should we do with him, sir?" "I NEED TO GIVE IT COLONEL HUNTERS, YOU IDIOT! LET ME GO, DAMN YOU!" "You ARE speaking to Colonel Hunters!" "Oh. Uh. Do I know you? Are you related to me? Is my last na-" Colonel Hunters silenced the boy with a look, and told the soldier to release him.

Jason couldn't believe his ears. "You? My uncle? Wait, my dad had a brother?"

"Yes, Jason, I'm Matthew Hunters."

"What? But… How? My dad never told me about you! He wouldn't lie to me!"

"Do you want to see your mother's letter? Also, first things first, what have you done to get kicked out of your house?"

"Well… I can't tell you that, because, uh…"

"Your mother is asking me to take you in and train you in the army. I will under one condition: You must tell me every single thing that's happened, in complete truth, and treat me like your superior officer, not a father. I cannot allow lenience, even for my own nephew."

"Alright then, I guess. So. Uh.. Where do I start…"

His mother's shouting still ringing in his ears, 19-year old Jason Hunters put on a battered, oversized leather jacket that his dad had left home, put his father's old army-issued knife in his pocket, and walked out of the house, determined to finally find a job. He had gotten in a fight with a gang member who was cornering a group of little kids and taking all of their pocket money, and his mother had given him a furious lecture about how he shouldn't keep fighting people, even for a good cause. He didn't see why doing it for a good cause was a bad thing, but he agreed to try and find a job.

As he walked down a small street, headed towards a nearby marketplace littered with shops, he saw two men threaten an old lady and take her purse. In rage, he completely forgot about a job and charged at the men. His dad had been serving in the military for almost his entire life, and although he had left for another woman in the US, he had trained young Jason to defend himself by teaching him martial arts. After a growth spurt in his high school years, Jason had grown 6'1" tall and with his knife out, looked quite menacing. The two men backed off, dropping the purse, but quickly realized that their attacker was just a lone teenager, and advanced on him. Jason quickly dodged the first man's slash, kicking his out of his hands and socking him in the stomach with his fist. The second man was a bit more tricky, and the two circled each other for a while, feinting slashes and stabs, trying to find a mistake or weakness, until Jason became impatient, seeing the first man slowly recover from the punch. He jumped forward, and did manage to lightly slash the man in the stomach, but not before the man's knife leave a cut on Jason's cheek. Feeling disadvantaged and slightly regretting his decision to fight, Jason backed off a little bit, and the first man recovered his knife and joined the other in fighting Jason again.

The first man, angry, charged at Jason, who leaned sideways and kicked the man in the face, knocking him out. Jason became off balance due to the impact of the kick and almost fell. The second man, knowing not to waste a chance, stabbed forward with his knife, and Jason, having the shorter blade, just jumped back just out of its reach. The second man pressed forward with his advantage, and Jason, tired, hurt and unable to block or get an edge on the other man, kept moving back until he was almost against a fence. Jason then spotted a pipe lying on the ground near the chain-link fence. He then quickly ran as fast as he could, the man hot on his tail, and grabbed the steel pipe on the ground, parrying the thief's Huntsman knife and knocking it out of the man's hands. Jason smirked at the man. "The tables have turned, haven't they?" The thief glared at Jason, but turned and ran. Jason ran after him, wielding his pipe. The first man that Jason knocked out had recovered and was glaring at him, but the second man gestured for him to run and they both quickly got away from him. Jason tiredly picked up his father's army knife from the ground and was putting the dented steel pipe back, when rough hands grabbed him from behind. Grunting, Jason kicked backwards, and managed to get away from the man, only to be knocked down and pointed at with guns.

"POLICE! GET DOWN AND LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPON!"

"I didn't do anything, I helped an old-"

"GET DOWN! SLIDE YOUR KNIFE AWAY RIGHT NOW!"

"But-"

"NOW! YOU CAN EXPLAIN AT THE STATION!"

The police, after hearing the old lady's testimony, lifted the charges on Jason, but took him back home to talk to his parents. After the police left, Jason flinched as his room's door was opened and his mother stormed inside. "Jason. What did I tell you? I said to stop fighting no matter what."

"Sorry, Mother. I just couldn't stand seeing those two men threaten a helpless old woman"

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU? I TOLD YOU TO STOP FIGHTING!"

"But I just can't resist seeing—"

"SHUT UP! Do you have that little respect for your own mother? You value your own impulses over my desperate pleading? You've been in fights since you were young. You've beaten up kids from your school so many times, have you ever realized how hard I was working not to get you kicked out of high school? I KNOW YOU DID IT FOR A GOOD CAUSE, SON. WHY DON'T YOU JUST LISTEN? DON'T FIGHT! EVER! Unless your life is threatened, DON'T FIGHT!"

"Mother, I'm sorry. I just… ugh. I can't help it! It must be in my genes or something!"

"YOU'VE TOLD ME YOU'RE SORRY HUNDREDS OF TIMES. YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME ONE DAY BECAUSE I DO ONE WRONG THING. WHAT ARE YOU? AN ANGEL OF GOD? THE REAPER? WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO JUDGE OTHERS BECAUSE YOU THINK IT'S WRONG?"

"You can't stop me! I'm going to be in the army and kill those stupid terrorists and gangs and rebels. Why do you want me to be a coward? NO! MOTHER, I AM GOING TO DO EVERYTHING YOU TELL ME TO DO, EXCEPT THIS."

"…"

"Mother?"

"You don't understand, Jason. You don't understand."

"Yes, exactly. I don't understand why you're so…so…scared of everything. My father taught me how to fight. I'm not going to—"

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I… _please. Jason… please._ "

"I don't understand you, mother. I'm not going to back down to evil. Never."

"Fine, then. Alright. FINE! YOU HAVE NO RESPECT FOR ME, AND I WON'T HAVE RESPECT FOR YOU!"

"Mother, I respect you and everything you do and did for me, except for this one thing. No, mother. I will fight for what is right. One year, and I'm old enough. I'm going to join the IDF."

"I told you, you are not joining the IDF or the US Army or the terrorists or a gang. If you are, do it once I'm dead. If you don't stop right now, I am never going to see you again. Ever."

"I'm your son, Jason Hunters! You can't just, like, disappear forever and never see me. I love you, Mother, but—"

"You don't love me if you do this."

"I love you, and I love what I'm doing. I want to fight for justice."

"Get out of this house."

"But… Mother…"

"You're not my son anymore. I don't want anything to do with you. I said GET OUT!

"So, that's your story, Jason?" Colonel Hunters looked sympathetically at the teenager, who was wiping his tears on his dirty shirt. "My mother didn't want me to join the army. She didn't want your father to join the army. As much as I love my mother, I don't regret joining the army."

"Right now, I feel like I made the wrong choice."

"Well, Jason, there's no going back now. I know your mother. As much as it kills her inside, she won't change her decision."

"I know that, Uncle. That's why I'm regretting my decision."

"I'm going to point out one wrong thing in your story."


End file.
